Emergency.

There was an emergency. Blood was spilled and well… mistakes were made. I’m being dramatic, but still –

This is Enrico D. Wey. He’s a friend of mine. Stop looking at me like that. I don’t beat him.

I DON’T!

I should, maybe. But I don’t. I couldn’t, really. I’m not like that.

STOP. Don’t look at me like that. I DIDN’T DO THAT TO HIM. I PLAYED NURSE AND THEN MADE HIM DINNER. I swear.

Oh jesus. That’s not helping. He’s looking at me like he’s totally suspicious of me. But you have to understand, that’s because he doesn’t quite like me . Don’t get me wrong. I think he thinks I’m cute and all, and maybe slightly amusing (MAYBE). But I think he also finds me pretty annoying.

Or… hm. That’s too strong, maybe.

Let’s just say he doesn’t find me NEARLY as charming as I think I am.

And that DRIVES ME CRAZY.

Because he’s wrong. I am charming.

What?

I didn’t rough him up, jerk. Now you’re just saying it to annoy me.

Stop it. Listen:

I asked him over when he mentioned he was rehearsing in the neighborhood. I was planning on cooking dinner anyhow. I made a rather poor imitation of Korean food. I had some kim chi lying around and I tried to make a Bi Bim Bop stone bowl affect with my cast iron skillet. And then I roasted some sprouts, because it’s late February now, and they’ll be totally out of season soon.

Then I asked him if he’d make some blueberry quick bread.

He said okay.

That doesn’t mean he actually likes me as a person, I pointed out. He was quick to agree.

I’m glad we settled that.

Enrico is an interesting case. I’ve been following (online stalking) his career for a few years now and I’m always impressed with the stuff I turn up about him. Seems like every six months he succeeds in a different arena. I’m not kidding. He’s a technical director. He also has a name for himself as a choreographer. Sometimes I’ll ichat him and he’ll be in some far-off land, on an artist’s fellowship at some university or theater.

He’s modest, and he won’t tell you what a great career he’s having, but he’s having one.

Oh. Yeah. He’s also a puppeteer.

His most recent gig has been with this Broadway show at Lincoln Center – War Horse.

Anyway. As I was saying. I love to internet stalk this guy. I’ve been at it off and on for a few years I guess? I like to meet people online and chat with them for months or years before I actually meet them. It weeds out the loonies and crystal meth addicts.

Isn’t he good looking? So handsome, right?

This is the first time I’ve ever annoyed someone into hanging out with me. I whined and whined until he finally consented.

Oh, is that surprising? I should have mentioned before now that I have zero pride.

I have very little pride. Also, I’m lying about having very little pride. I’m way too proud.

Anyway. He came over and I dressed his wound from rehearsal. Then I made us dinner. He made some quick bread. It had canned blueberry pie filling and dark chocolate chips. He’s a nice guy, as it turns out. He’s funny and sardonic, and he takes a while to warm up to you.

I think I may have won him over. I may have moved myself, incrementally, in his head. from one category to another. By the time he left he was treating me less like a “creepy weirdo” and more like a “benign weirdo.” Score.

What can I say. When you’re charming you’re charming.

Now I suppose it’s back to Googling him every so often and harassing him on ichat.